


The Guest

by greygerbil



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-25 19:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17731313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greygerbil/pseuds/greygerbil
Summary: Clipper stays over at Connor's house for a night, wishing he'd be in bed with him instead of camping out on the ground. Connor's reaction to an uninvited guest makes it even harder to hide his crush.





	The Guest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Apathy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apathy/gifts).



> Hello there, and thank you for requesting this pairing, it's great. I hope you like this fluffy treat!

“Achilles’ old bed wasn’t in the best shape anymore, so I threw it out. I just have mine at the moment. It’s broad enough for both of us, but perhaps you would prefer staying at the inn?”

Connor looked at Clipper, but his expression and voice were calm, almost blank, completely unreadable. Good God, for a man Clipper liked so much, Connor could be quite frustrating sometimes! Maybe he was just trying to be decent and not push Clipper to bend to his will? After all, the few quick kisses they had shared didn’t quite make them lovers yet, especially on account of Clipper not having worked up the stones to really ask about it. On the other hand, could Connor be trying to let him down gently? He did not usually tarry to take what he wanted.

“If I slept at the inn, I would have to leave soon. I’d rather stay and talk a bit longer,” Clipper said carefully. He didn’t want to go, but he didn’t want to impose on Connor, either. “You know, I’m used to sleeping rough out in the wilderness. Just put a sheet and a pillow on the ground for me and it’ll be more comfortable than I get most nights. No problem at all.”

He’d hoped to get a reaction out of Connor with that, but he just nodded his head with the same stern face he’d worn before.

“You could have the bed to yourself if you wanted,” Connor answered. “I don’t mind sleeping on the ground, either.”

Clipper raised his hands to defend himself from that offer.

“I’m not kicking you out of your own bed! It’s fine, Connor.”

“If you say so.”

Clipper suppressed a twinge of disappointment that Connor hadn’t insisted they both used the bed and smiled.

-

Since they were still going on about Assassin’s business by the time the night was getting long, they put Clipper’s bed up in Connor’s room. Lying in the darkness talking, Clipper felt ten again, whispering with his brothers and the boys of other prospectors’ families, all crammed up in the one room of a snowed-in hut on the way to where their fathers were taking them to learn the business. It was comfortable despite the thought in the back of his head that he’d rather be up there on the mattress with Connor.

A lull in the conversation had Clipper listening to the house. The beams and floor boards cracked silently the way they always would in older places like this, and the wind blew sharply outside, but sounded only muffled through the window. Since it was a cold night, Connor had a bit of a fire going and that added its own crackling and occasional hiss and clatter from shifting firewood.

This quiet was new to Clipper. He was used to sleeping in the woods or fields, where something was always moving, or in inns or small rented rooms, where you could usually here some din from the drinking parlour or other tenants in the same building. Maybe that was why the sudden scratching sound below stood out so much to him. He lifted his head, listening more closely. There it was again.

“Do you hear that?” Connor asked, from up on the bed.

He’d also noticed – no wonder. Having hunted with him before, animals and Templars, Clipper knew that Connor had the ears of a lynx.

“Yes,” he murmured.

With baited breath, he waited, and when he almost thought it must have been just the wood working again, the scratching repeated.

“I’m going to take a look,” Connor decided, in a hushed voice, as he grabbed the hatchet that leaned against the side of his bed. Brandishing the weapon while wearing only rough leather breeches and with his hair not grown back in yet, only a stripe going down the middle of his scalp left, he looked quite warlike and very handsome.

Pulling a hunting knife out of his coat, which he’d draped over the back of a chair, Clipper followed. Though Connor had uprooted most of the leading Templars in the Colonies, they were not the only ones in the world and the Assassins all new retribution would come eventually. Clipper had met Achilles, heard the stories of what had happened to the Order the last time the Templars had decided to crack down, and it had left his blood running cold.

Quiet like shadows, they walked down the stairs. Clipper made sure to follow exactly in Connor’s footsteps, for he knew he’d pick the spots on the steps that would make the least amount of noise. When they had reached the ground floor, Connor gestured towards the front end of the house and then his own chest before pointing at Clipper and down the hallway, ordering him wordlessly to check the rooms at the back.

Clipper moved carefully, knife drawn, but came up empty; and if the lack of any ruckus from the front was something to go by, Connor hadn’t been any more successful than him. He only heard a metallic clank and a door opening and realised Connor was now checking the secret basement, though Clipper figured if anyone had slipped in there, they would have surely heard the mechanism while still upstairs.

Peering into the study a second time, Clipper suddenly heard that scratching again, this time closer. It came from under a dark wooden shelf, which stood some inches above ground on thick feet. Getting to his knees, he peered underneath. Two dark eyes looked back at him, big and helpless. The puppy dragged its clawed paw across the ground, scratching over the wooden boards, and whimpered quietly.

Clipper had to laugh.

“Connor, I think I found the intruder!” he called as he reached under the shelf and dragged the puppy out by the scruff of its neck. It was a boy and some sort of mutt, looking a little like a wolf and a little like a Shepherd dog, with something else mixed in there accounting for the stub snout. His dark, dishevelled fur was damp to the touch.

“He must have slipped in with us when we came out of the rain earlier,” Clipper said, when Connor stood in the door, while lifting the shivering puppy into his arms.

Connor smiled slightly. “Is he hurt?” he asked, stepping forward.

“Just cold, I think. I didn’t see any wounds.” He looked up at Connor. “Does he belong to any of the people here?”

“I’ve never seen him before. It’s possible a dog staying over at the inn gave birth to him and the owner didn’t take the puppies. That happens sometimes.”

“Or he ran from even further away,” Clipper said, scratching with his thumb behind the dog’s ear. “What should we do with him?”

“I will let him stay for now, in case someone does miss him,” Connor decided. “If they ask around, I will hear about it.”

Clipper nodded his head, grateful for the answer. On account of it being such a freezing night, he wouldn’t have wanted to put the puppy out again, anyway.

“I’ll get some meat from the deer we shot this morning. Bring him to the bedroom.”

Clipper rubbed his palm over the dog’s head as he walked upstairs. The puppy seemed a bit less frightened now, hanging in Clipper’s arm, or perhaps he’d just given up. Clipper could feel his ribs clearly under the fur. Chances were he didn’t have much of a fighting spirit left.

With the puppy, Clipper sat down on the simple red rug in front of the fireplace in Connor’s room.

“You gave us quite a fright, little guy,” he said, resting the pup on his lap. The dog looked up, wide-eyed, and though he didn’t seem very contrite, it was hard not to forgive him with that look. He did, however, lose interest in Clipper when Connor came in carrying a bowl of water and a plate full of roughly cut, small chunks of meat and a big white bone. Wagging his tail and yipping excitedly, he stumbled off Clipper’s lap. Connor knelt by their side, arranging the dishes before the dog and gently running his hand along his back.

Sitting there, seeing Connor watch carefully that the puppy was eating up while petting his tousled fur, Clipper felt the affection for him that always burned in his chest like embers throw fresh sparks. After everything that had happened to Connor, he had still come out the other end such a decent, gentle fellow as he’d been all those years ago, when Clipper had first fallen for him.

Connor lifted his head and seemed to note Clipper had stopped paying attention to the dog. Their eyes met and for a long moment, they sat in silence. Clipper’s heart felt stuck in his throat. Should he say something? Or do something? Did Connor expect something of him?

Finally, Clipper threw all thoughts overboard and simple leaned forward and pressed his lips against Connor’s. It always felt so nice to kiss him, even if, he would admit, they hadn’t done much more than pecking so far. Connor always kept his mouth closed, even when he seemed happy to lean in, like now. That was fine, though. Clipper just wanted Connor not to draw away. He only did it after a very long moment, but it was still too early for Clipper.

“Can I – er, could I stay in your bed, maybe?” Clipper burst out.

Now Connor looked surprised.

“I thought you didn’t want to sleep there. I offered,” he pointed out.

Relief washed over Clipper like someone had thrown a bucket of water on his head.

“ _I_ thought you wanted me to go to the inn!”

Connor shook his head and stayed silent for a long moment. “I don’t know much about this kind of thing. Being with someone this way,” he confessed, finally. “I never had the time. I wasn’t sure if inviting you into my bed was appropriate.”

“Oh, well. I don’t really know how it’s done properly, either, to be true,” Clipper admitted. He seemed to have more hands-on experience than Connor, if his timid kisses were anything to go by, but nothing much as far as relationships went. “My family weren’t much for noble manners, we’re simple folk, you see. Besides, with men, you don’t often get the chance to do more than – well.”

“What?” Connor asked, looking honestly curious.

Clipper fidgeted a bit. “Ah, most men just want to get off, yes? Since it’s not allowed to be with a man like men are with their girls, so they won’t risk doing more.”

“Oh,” Connor made. “You’re not like that, though, are you?”

This was the moment for bravery, Clipper told himself. “No, I’m, I’m really sweet on you. I’d like to, well, that is, if you’d keep me around, I’d be very happy.”

Stammering though the confession had be, it granted him one of Connor’s smiles, which had become quite rare these days. He pulled Clipper in by the back of his neck, leaning their foreheads together for a moment.

“I want more than those men, too. I want you to stay with me,” he said, earnestly, as he let go. “When I leave Boston or you go back, it always seems too long until we meet again. I want to see you every day if I can. That’s much to ask, though, I know that.”

It was, and Clipper thought maybe he’d seem overeager if he answered with the truth, which was that he wouldn’t mind his cramped little Boston apartment burning down with all his belongings in it right this very moment if it meant he got to live here instead.

“I’m sure Stephane and Duncan could hold the fort in Boston,” Clipper said, instead. “I never really enjoyed living in the city much, anyway.”

Connor kissed him in that tight, clumsy, loving way he had and grabbed Clipper’s arm to pull him up. They laid down in the bed together, still holding hands under the blanket. Clipper was too giddy with happiness to sleep, so he noticed the puppy come over once he was done with his food and water. One-handed, he lifted him up onto the bed. The dog curled by their feet and Connor shifted his legs a little to accomodate him before tugging Clipper closer. Clipper felt at home.


End file.
